


Liquid and Light

by JSinister32



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Sex, Eventual relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Hannibal Lecter Doesn't Want to Love Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter Loses His Mind, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal and Will Have a Lot to Work Out, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, hard questions, post Wrath Of The Lamb, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29067606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: The Dragon is dead, and Hannibal and Will take their icy plunge into the sea.  Will was unsure if they would survive, but it was the only way to start anew.Although their first moments of fragile truth were shared as they fell, Hannibal and Will have a long way to go before they can find home once again.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39





	Liquid and Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amg241](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amg241/gifts).



> For AMG- Darling, this is your ball of wool, now printed and highlighted so I can write a story to answer your questions. I hope I do your thoughts justice.

_Make me immortal with a kiss._   
_-Christopher Marlowe_

* * *

The Great Red Dragon was dead. It didn’t matter what other truths might exist; Francis Dolarhyde and the monster that rode upon his back had been felled, the force that governed his need for death snuffed out upon the stones that surrounded Hannibal’s home. Even now, he was unsure of whose blow had taken his life, but if he were to hazard a guess, it would be Will’s. The profiler had managed to open his belly, splitting Dolarhyde’s insides like a rotten sack of grain. _With the knife he buried into Will_ _’s shoulder, no less. God so often has a sense of humor in such matters._

The Dragon now lay motionless, a broken man whose blood poured out in an unmistakable pattern of what appeared to be wings; a final tribute to his dark passenger staining the earth around him. Hannibal had a feeling that, for years to come, those who tread upon the ground where Dolarhyde lay would sense the evil that had once perished where they stood. Power still radiated outward from his prone form, even when in the grip of death.

From where Hannibal crouched, he could see the gaping hole in their adversary’s throat; the chunk of tissue he’d swallowed had been taken without so much as a fleeting thought. This was not the first bit of long pig he had eaten; if they survived tonight, it was unlikely to be his last. All the power the Dragon had believed he could absorb in his wanton path of destruction would be contained within that single, sacrificial morsel; if there was anything to the superstition, all the power had been transferred to Hannibal. _There have been tribes for as long as man has existed that believe the flesh contains the essence of a person,_ he mused. _Perhaps now is the time to put such a theory to the test._

“It really does look black in the moonlight,” came a soft, awestruck voice from behind him. _Will._ Hannibal hesitantly turned to face the other man, fearful of what he would see in his eyes. He needn’t have worried; Will was staring at his own hands as if he had never seen them before. The profiler was bleeding profusely from the wound in his cheek, dark liquid pouring down in rivulets that stained his pallid flesh with patches of darkness. Hannibal understood without having to examine it that the shoulder wound the profiler had sustained would be equally brutal, but it was concealed beneath the shirt that clung to the other man’s body, its damage invisible although it would surely pain him once the adrenaline riding them ebbed away. 

Hannibal slowly stood and crossed to where Will still lay prone, exhaustion descending upon him with all the ferocity of an apex predator. Will held a shaking hand out, fingers coated in his own blood; Hannibal moved quickly to help him from the ground. Although their legs would barely hold them if they attempted to stay upright on their own, both men seemed stronger if they leaned against one another. _Together will always be better._ They panted in unison, pulling air into bruised lungs, the salt from the sea burning its way down their ravaged windpipes. It hurt to breathe; the pain made Hannibal feel more alive than he had in years. Will struggled to slow his desperate gasps, the effort made more strenuous with his wounds. In that crystalline moment that suspended between them, Hannibal had never seen him look so beautiful.

“See?” the doctor murmured softly. His voice wavered, almost snatched away by the breeze that rolled in with the waves that crashed into the rocks below. _The bluff is eroding; what we were is melting away, everything blinking into nonexistence. All of it will fade_ _… except for what happens next, whatever that may be._ Will moved closer, straining to hear the words pouring forth from his lips. Their fingers brushed together before finding purchase in the bloody ruins of their clothing. The air between them sparked with electricity, anticipation; the mingling of their breath warmed the bubble that formed around them, shutting out everything else. In that moment, Hannibal and Will could have been the only two people in existence. The current that traveled their skin shot arcs of pleasure down and out along Hannibal’s body, set his entire being alight with feeling. In an instant, their mere contact threatened to overwhelm him. _Please. Do not disappear now. Not after what we have endured to be here._

“This is all I ever wanted for you, Will,” the doctor confessed, pulling the profiler close. “For both of us.” Will’s eyes were impossibly large in the moonlight; his face reflected a profound understanding that Hannibal had come to believe he would never see, especially not directed at him. The darkness that surrounded them both roiled to the surface, filling Will’s gaze with an emotion Hannibal dare not try to name. His eyes dropped to Hannibal’s bloodstained lips, his breath catching on his short gasps for air.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispered reverently. Hannibal’s heart exploded with joy. _At last. At last you can understand. Everything that has happened; all that has been and all that ever will be culminated into this moment. This one bright and shining fragment of acceptance._

They drew together as if pulled by magnets. It was impossible to stay apart for another second. Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s trembling body, rested their temples together and helped him regulate his breathing. _In for two. Hold it a moment. Out for two. Breathe with me, Will. The worst is over._

Their eyes met, pools of emotion spilling forth all the moments that they had been keeping hidden from one another. At once, all the pain, the indecision, the turmoil and manipulation… none of it mattered. All the little hurts and the big ones; Abigail and Jack, Italy, brain fever and undeserved incarceration… it had all been necessary to bring them to where they now stood. Each turn they took, each path they chose brought them closer and closer to where they were supposed to be. Even the man that lay dead at their feet, the final battle that would either destroy or remake who they were together, had been rendered as insignificant as the wind. Hannibal’s lips parted; Will’s eyes followed the movement like a fox stalking a hare. The hands balanced on the doctor’s shoulders drifted upward, caressing the skin of his neck in their wake, raising goosebumps along his sensitive flesh. Hannibal shivered, overwhelmed. Clumsy fingers wound into the back of his hair, tightening, controlling the angle of his face.

Their lips met for the first time on the cliffside of what remained of Hannibal’s home as they bled out onto the flagstones; the barest brush, only a taste. As if such an offering could possibly be refused. Hannibal caught the kiss as Will pulled back, his own fingers finding purchase on the profiler’s waist. Their noses brushed fondly as their mouths sealed, broke apart and met once more, the kiss deepening into something hungry and as violent as the monster that brought them to this place. It was unclear who made the first small, desperate sound, but once the seal had broken, the moans and breathy cries they made as they kissed were heard and registered before they were carried away on the breeze. Hannibal licked across the seam of Will’s lips, begging entrance. With a groan, the profiler surrendered. Hannibal eased his tongue into the hot depths of Will’s mouth, his entire world bursting into sparks of color and light bright enough to chase back the darkness that surrounded them. Their kiss tasted of blood and passion, the flavors battling for dominance as their tongues flashed together, hands grasping at anything they could reach.

Will shuddered in Hannibal’s arms, his skin growing cool even as the kiss deepened. Each press, each gentle caress of lips and tongue and teeth told a library of stories, spoke in whispers the words neither man could bring himself to voice. _I_ _’m sorry. I need you. You are mine. I love you. Please don’t leave. Don’t ever leave. I am nothing without you._

Minutes melted and stretched in the gentle wake of this first fragile intimacy they shared. The holes that had been left empty by the damage they inflicted upon one another suddenly felt full to bursting, revitalizing even as their strength ebbed away. Body weak with pain, Will panted against Hannibal’s mouth, but even then, he did nothing to relinquish his grasp. His fingers tightened in the doctor’s hair, drawing a harsh, needy moan from Hannibal’s throat. They kissed as if this night was their last, as if there would be nothing when the moment was at an end.

Looking back, Hannibal felt as if he should have known.

It didn’t feel like dying, not really. If falling from such a height could consist of Will’s mouth pressed firmly to his own, the feel of the profiler’s body against him, he would have willingly chosen to take the leap. Even if he had been given the opportunity to walk away from the edge of the cliff, he would have chosen to fall. _The bluff is eroding, and soon there will be even less of it than there is now. We stand on the edge of its destruction, and with it, our own beginning._

He hardly felt the agony that wracked his body when they plunged into the ocean, barely registered that his lungs were filling with brine. All he could feel was Will’s body close to his own, his only sight the vast and endless blue of the profiler’s gaze. Even as Hannibal’s eyes slipped closed, his life pouring out into the vast depths surrounding them, all he could recall was the taste of Will’s mouth as it pressed greedily to his own. 

Hannibal Lecter’s mind slipped away as the cold waters engulfing him; the ocean atrophied his limbs and stole what little warmth he’d managed to retain. Everything he had been drifted to nothing, broken open on the surface of the waves that carried them towards the shoreline. A part of him died in the arms of the man he loved, even as Will forced air into his lungs, screaming at him, pleading with him to return.

_Please, Hannibal. Don_ _’t you dare leave me. We have one goodbye still left between us._

Eventually, even the pain floated away; instead, the memories he held so close, those precious moments he had cataloged within the rooms of his memory palace, burst forth to overwhelm him. _Life really does flash before one_ _’s eyes at the end of all things._

He would have found it humorous if he could feel anything at all.

* * *

_We will have to pass through the bitter water before we reach the sweet._

Against all odds and everything he had so meticulously planned, Dolarhyde had paid for his indiscretions with his life. Will’s chest ached, his shoulder flared with hot agony where the knife had been buried to the hilt. Neither compared to the pain in his cheek, but even that was fading away in the wake of their victory. _We did it. He_ _’s dead, and we live. Christ, I can’t believe we are alive._

Unable to comprehend what was happening beyond their luck, Will watched Hannibal with a detached interest, his mind spinning away with the possibilities that now lay terrifyingly open before them. He raised a hand unconsciously to his cheek, his fingers coming away wet and darkened with his own blood. _Darkness pours forth, even in the lightest of moments,_ he thought wildly.

“It really does look black in the moonlight,” he murmured, delirious. Even though Hannibal had mentioned it, he didn’t believe it could possibly be true until he saw it for himself. He glanced up into the face of the man that had saved him more times than he could count; Hannibal looked at him as if he were everything, as if he would never need food or drink or air ever again. Something inside, something soft and fragile that had been protected for far too long, broke apart, blowing away on the wind. It left him feeling clean and empty, open and honest. There was something about the doctor, an indefinable shift that shattered him apart. Suddenly, the cliff and the Dragon, the stones beneath his feet and the chill of the wind no longer mattered.

There was only Hannibal. 

Will lifted a hand, a silent plea for assistance. The doctor strode forward with all the grace of a wild animal and grasped his fingers, pulling him to his feet. For a fragment of time, they leaned into one another without speaking, panting and overwhelmed. It took him long moments to realize that Hannibal was speaking, murmuring words that were carted off by the breeze. He leaned in, wanting to hear everything, unable to hold back a moment longer.

“See?” the doctor soothed, his voice soft as velvet. “This is all I ever wanted for you, Will. For both of us.” Overwhelmed, Will spoke the first words that came to his mind, his need for honesty spilling forth unchecked from his lips. He no longer had the energy to try and manipulate and outwit; he wanted to exist in this moment with the man that held him, clung to him as if he were the last still thing in a world of infinitely spinning chaos.

“It’s beautiful.” The whisper was broken, heartfelt, raw. He could see their impact implode in the pinwheels of Hannibal’s maroon and gold gaze. He had never seen anything more magnificent.

They drew closer, bodies colliding even as their strength departed, leaving behind what would eventually be a cold exhaustion. Will felt none of it. Instead he concentrated on the body pressed to his, hard planes of muscle, an inner strength that kept him upright even now, as bone tired as they both must be. Hannibal’s lips parted; Will couldn’t look away. More than anything else in the world, he wanted the man who held him. Denial no longer kept him safe. 

Weak, he followed the movement of Hannibal’s mouth with his gaze, even as he drew nearer. His hands wound up along the granite shoulders he clung to, fingers teasing into tresses he had longed to stroke more times than he cared to admit. Hannibal’s hair was soft and infinitely pleasing to stroke his fingers through. The shivery sound of contentment that escaped his throat only served to fortify Will’s sudden bravery. _Please. Oh please don_ _’t turn from me now._

The first tentative brush of lips, warm and more real than Will ever dared hope, almost ended his world. Hannibal’s hands found his waist, unconsciously drawing him closer as their mouths sealed and pressed over and over. Their kisses kept with the theme of their relationship; hungry and passionate, each vying for the upper hand as they opened to one another, tasting and sharing for the first time. Hannibal’s tongue teased the seam of his lips and Will opened to him, no long able to deny that the man that held him so tenderly. _It doesn_ _’t matter how much I rail against it. We would have always ended up here. Exactly here._

Time, infinite and golden, stretched before and behind them, only broken by the fragile intimacy of their kisses.

He didn’t know when he decided to take them over the edge of the cliff. As with their very beginning, he glanced at the bluffs and for an instant, wondered what would happen if he pitched them over the edge of the precipice and into the waters below. The vision solidified more and more as their passion reached its pinnacle, and by the time Will had the chance to think about the consequences, they were already tumbling towards the vast and endless blue below them.

As they plummeted towards the waters, their kiss continued. Will wrapped himself around Hannibal’s body, pulling him as close as they could be while still remaining two separate beings. He didn’t have time for regrets, only the single, shining moment of action once the decision was made. They couldn’t walk away from what they had done, not and become as they needed to be to survive one another. Instinctively, he understood what it would take for them to remain together. Through battle and pain, through trials and death, they would arise, victorious.

The mantra repeated itself, looping through his exhausted mind as he breathed life back into the man who had saved him from himself more times than he could count. When he cried and screamed and begged him to cough up what remained of the water in his lungs, when he hauled them over the edge of the boat that would bear them away, the words played on, endless and transformative.

_We will have to pass through the bitter water before we reach the sweet._

Exhausted and spent, Will collapsed beside Hannibal on the bottom of the boat, and prayed into his unconsciousness that they’d still be alive come sunrise.


End file.
